


desire, i'm hungry

by otter_pop



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Facials, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hook-Up, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Multiple Orgasms, Past Relationship(s), Roommates, Smut, Unhealthy Relationships, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-07-10 14:05:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15950891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otter_pop/pseuds/otter_pop
Summary: “Hit me, Minnie,” Chanyeol said, voice firm. Minseok’s eyes darkened.The challenge coupled with the name set something off in Minseok so fucking unadulterated, he didn’t know what else to do other than grab Chanyeol by his hair, shove him into the wall again before pulling him down for a rough, and fairly sudden, kiss.





	desire, i'm hungry

**Author's Note:**

> for prompt r1.051: normally we duke it out to vent our frustrations, but this time someone initiated a kiss in the middle of our fight and suddenly we're fucking against the nearest flat surface
> 
> title: [desire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bR5u9jb0PJE) by meg myers

Minseok was never particularly one to care about anybody’s opinions on his relationships, be it platonic, or romantic. After all, he was a grown man, old enough to make decisions without needing someone else to chime in and tell him about his own life. 

But it seemed that everybody had some sort of comment to make when it came to his relationship with Chanyeol. Granted, it wasn’t the most conventional of relationships.

Being roommates, at first, seemed like a smart idea; Minseok needed to split the rent just to make ends meet for an expensive apartment in central Seoul, and Chanyeol was willing— young and a little naive, but excited to have a place to stay. Although he and Minseok were like apples and oranges when it came to... almost everything, they didn’t think it was going to be so bad.

Roommates argued. That was a normal occurrence. Minseok argued with Jongdae when they were roommates before, and he knew his other friends had little things that irked them about their roommates, too.

But Minseok’s budding frustration with Chanyeol went far beyond arguments. Little things he did didn’t just make Minseok annoyed or irritated— he was downright disgusted. Chanyeol would bring home women, and Minseok made it known (loudly known) he didn’t care for that shit at all. And Chanyeol would make faces when Minseok criticized him for his cleanliness, borderline berating him before Chanyeol stormed out of the apartment and didn’t come back for a few hours.

When things were going good, they were great. Having Chanyeol around kept Minseok in check more than he thought he ever could. Sometimes they’d grocery shop together, or Chanyeol would turn on a movie, and Minseok just accidentally happened to wander in and think it looked interesting. They didn’t  _ hate  _ each other.

“Minseok,” Jongdae said, catching his attention and leaning over the table for effect. “This? This is not okay.”

“This” was referring to the dishes broken on the floor. “This” meant the furniture in the living room shoved out of its places. “This” meant the tear in Minseok’s shirt from Chanyeol trying to jerk him back by the collar of shirt, only for it to rip.

“It’s just a little messy.” Minseok looked at the floor. “I’ll get it clean.”

“No— holy shit, dude, I mean you and Chanyeol, fucking fighting like this.” Jongdae’s voice was incredulous. “He put hands on you. It’s getting out of hand. Arguing and fighting are two very different things.”

“Like you and I didn’t fight? And he didn’t even touch me anyways, he just grabbed my shirt.”

“I never grabbed you like this,” Jongdae said, pointing at Minseok’s shirt. “We pushed each other like teenagers and went our separate ways. And this isn’t about me, anyways!”

“I pushed him, too! I have my own judgment, Jongdae.” Minseok was talking down at him, like he was a child, and it visibly irked Jongdae, but he let it go. “If I thought it was serious, he wouldn’t live with me anymore.”

Jongdae had a lot to say to that, but found himself cut short, as the sound of a key sliding into the front door interrupted him. They both looked up from their spots at the table, Chanyeol walking in with his head hanging low. He didn’t say anything— only glanced up at Minseok and let Jongdae catch sight of the cut on his bottom lip.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Jongdae said, standing up and grabbing his things. “Minseok, get your shit together. Seriously.”

Chanyeol stepped aside to let Jongdae storm out, closing the door behind him before shirking his hoodie off of his shoulders. Minseok stood up at the table, looked Chanyeol up and down.

“We should clean up the apartment,” Minseok said first. Chanyeol wasn’t even surprised by Minseok’s nonchalance, as he nodded and slipped his shoes off.

Chanyeol started in the living room, putting their furniture back in its place, while Minseok grabbed a broom and dustpan, sweeping up the remnants of their fight into a nice neat little pile and tossing it when he was finished. When he looked at the stove and found Chanyeol’s cheap little package of ramen thrown right in, a casualty of their fight, he couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. Chanyeol came up beside him, looked down, and did the same thing.

“Sorry, by the way,” Chanyeol said. Minseok shook his head, as if brushing it off. “Can I say something?”

“What is it?”

“I don’t even remember why we started arguing.” Chanyeol let it sit for a moment, before bursting into a laugh and running his fingers through his hair. Minseok couldn’t help but laugh with him, didn’t know how he could go from completely loathing Chanyeol, to... this. Casual and easy and relaxed. Even when Minseok brushed Jongdae off, he knew it  _ wasn’t  _ okay, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit it.

“Me neither.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


The first time Minseok realized just what it was he felt in the pit of his chest when he saw Chanyeol, it was after walking into the apartment early from work, and found Chanyeol with a young man in his bedroom, door wide open. Minseok didn’t call out for Chanyeol when he walked in, simply closing the door behind him and lugging his bag over his shoulder, all the while Chanyeol remained oblivious.

Even when Minseok trudged past the open door, had to take a double take and caught Chanyeol’s eye, he couldn’t quite tell the twist in his chest, the gnaw of something eating at him as they made eye contact. Chanyeol smiled, a taunt hidden in the curve of his lips. The thrust of his hips made Minseok flinch, before rolling his eyes and closing the door with a loud slam. Chanyeol didn’t stop, and it didn’t seem like the notch on his bedpost cared either.

Explaining it to Yixing made it pretty clear later. Minseok downed a shot glass of alcohol, hummed, waited for Yixing’s verdict on it after telling him what he felt.

“And you’re sure you’re not jealous?” Yixing said, pointing a finger at Minseok. Minseok shook his head.

“Not jealous of the other guy. Chanyeol  _ wishes  _ he could fuck me.”

Yixing snorted out a laugh, drank down his own alcohol before pursing his lips.

“It’s sounds like... you’re competing with Chanyeol?”

“Competing?” Minseok laughed even harder than Yixing had. “Competing in what? We’re nothing alike.”

“I think that’s what’s really driving it,” Yixing said, setting his glass to the side. “You’re drawn to the fact that he’s nothing like you. And I bet he’s the same way with you. But you know what you’re both used to?” Minseok quirked a brow in response. “Being on top. You’ve never had somebody even think they could threaten that position.”

“Please, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard.” Minseok ducked his head down when Yixing poured him another shot. “As if Chanyeol could ever do that anyways.”

“Wow, it’s almost like I’m right?” Yixing said. Minseok kicked him under the table, ordered him to drink his shot with him. When the two of them slammed their glasses down, Minseok let out a groan, well on his way to getting drunk. Chanyeol wasn’t home, but he’d probably stumble in later after one of his stupid parties with his fellow producers, wasted out of his mind. They’d probably fight about it in the morning.

“Hey, don’t forget about my going away party next week.”

The look on Minseok’s face said he really, really didn’t want to go. Yixing made the face back, clearly already buzzed, considering the usual respect he had for Minseok.

“It’s the last time you’ll see me for a year, and you’re gonna give me trouble!” Yixing said, incredulous. Minseok groaned, slumping down in his seat and sighing hard.

“You invited  _ Lu Han,  _ of course I don’t want to fucking go.”

“Well, he never said if he was going to show up or not. He probably won’t even remember!”

Except Lu Han was always the type to do the exact opposite everyone expected of him, except for Minseok. That was how they ended up together— Minseok enjoyed the stability Lu Han offered him, until Lu Han was too predictable, and left Minseok.

And now this.

All Minseok could do was pour himself another shot, and shoot it back, while wondering where it was he went wrong.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Nobody could ever tell Yixing “no” because Yixing never really asked for much, and Minseok was not a strong enough man to be the first. He swallowed his pride, gussied himself up just a little for the party, and walked into the living room, where Chanyeol was waiting, sitting on the couch in a nice pair of jeans, probably new, and a button up. His hair was slicked back in a coif, one single curled hair sitting on his forehead, and cologne  _ reeking  _ from his body. Still, Minseok let out a low whistle, felt a little underdressed.

“I thought it was just a goodbye party,” Minseok said, gathering his things from the table beside the door, while Chanyeol scrambled to unplug his phone from the charger and tug his shoes on at the door.

“Well, you never know.” Chanyeol sniffled.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You never know, what?”

“Y’know, when you’re gonna need to clean up. Might as well go there and look like a solid ten, just in case.”

“You’re an idiot.” Minseok couldn’t hold it back, just rolled his eyes and shook his keys. 

It was unspoken he’d be giving Chanyeol a ride there, but it was nice to tease, Minseok thought, as he rushed downstairs and hardly gave Chanyeol a chance to catch up with him. By the time Chanyeol was at the door of the car, Minseok was buckled in, starting the car up with his hand on the gear shift beside him. Chanyeol panted softly, ducking down to look at Minseok before huffing out, “Fuck you,” and dropping into the car.

The entire way there, Chanyeol didn’t really seem interested in talking, just leaned his head on the window and closed his eyes a few times while humming to himself.

“Lu Han is gonna be there,” Chanyeol said, could practically feel the tension get thicker in the air of the car, as Minseok’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles white with irritation. Chanyeol knew a list of things to never touch on when it came to talking to Minseok: how much coffee he drank, how clean he kept the apartment, and bringing up any exes. Minseok had the courtesy to keep Chanyeol’s past relationship with Yixing under the rug, because apparently Chanyeol had some really deep feelings that Yixing just couldn’t quite reciprocate. It made it even worse when Chanyeol found out Yixing had an affinity for Baekhyun.

_ (“Baekhyun,”  _ Chanyeol had said the night he found out, slurred his words with alcohol and tears and buried his face in the crook of Minseok’s neck.  _ “Baekhyun, of all people.”) _

Minseok tried not to think about that, just bit the inside of his cheek and looked the other way, as if focusing on traffic and not the idea of driving into the oncoming lane.

“He probably won’t even show up. You know how he is.”

“All business, no time for fun?”

“No time for anyone besides his new plaything.” Ouch. Even hearing himself say it was brutal. Chanyeol snorted.

“Whatever. His loss.”

Minseok furrowed his brows, shot Chanyeol an offhand look. Chanyeol shrunk away defensively.

“Did you just compliment me?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

Minseok wasn’t quite sure what to say of it. Just that it was weird to hear Chanyeol compliment him when they were usually at each other’s throats, competing over something unspoken but not one another. Minseok swallowed hard and looked back at the road after a beat, slowing to a stop and blinking the surprise from his expression.

“Whatever. I just wanna get through the night and get back home.”

“Touchy, touchy,” Chanyeol said, feeling a little more brave than usual. He ignored how Minseok huffed in response, pressing his lips in a thin line, before speeding away just a touch too fast when the light turned from red to green.

  
  
  


As per-against-expectation, Lu Han had shown up with his new eye candy on his arm, the two of them too picturesque for Minseok to miss, as he immediately walked over to grab a drink from the bar. Yifan stood at the bar, ready with a shot glass, which he filled to the brim with whiskey as soon as he saw Minseok storming over. Chanyeol was already lost in the crowd of people Yixing knew, ready to mingle, maybe bring someone home. Minseok made it perfectly clear he wouldn’t be toting anyone home in his car, but knowing Chanyeol, he wouldn’t mind calling an uber for a booty call anyways.

“Another one?” Yifan asked, nonchalant. Minseok nodded, slid the shot glass across the counter, while Yifan tipped the bottle over again. “When was the last time you saw him?”

“When he left,” Minseok grumbled in response, downing the second shot with a quiet groan and wiping his lips. “I was hoping he wouldn’t show up.”

“He’ll leave early, don’t worry about him,” Yifan said, before leaning across the counter.

“I don’t even want him to notice me.” Minseok sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Where’s ‘Xing, by the way?”

“Last I saw, Junmyeon had him pulled to the side, probably lecturing him on business or something.” Yifan shrugged, before being pulled to the side to pour beer for somebody else, one of many Yixing knew. Minseok ducked his head low when he heard Lu Han laugh from across the room. God, he was fucking embarrassed. This was  _ embarrassing.  _

Hiding at the bar only worked for an hour, before Lu Han and his arm piece had managed to find their way across the room, and only a few feet from the bar. Minseok let out a long breath, asking Yifan for just one more shot, and downing it just as Lu Han let out a noise of surprise, his presence drawing closer just as Minseok slammed the glass down and let out a deep sigh, resigning himself to his fate.

“Minnie,” was the first thing Lu Han said, and Minseok  _ hated  _ this so much, could feel his skin crawling at the sound of his voice. Lu Han was musical without trying, spoke with elegance and refinement that made Minseok nostalgic— remembering all the hushed half spoken promises late at night, when Minseok thought just a bit too much for his own good, and Lu was there for him.

But where Lu Han was good at making Minseok’s stomach twist with nostalgia and self-loathing, Minseok was good at packing up his shit and leaving, quickly swallowing down the last of his drink before turning to Lu Han with a short smile, and slipping through the crowds of people behind him. Minseok was good at running away, almost a little  _ too  _ good.

“Yixing!” Minseok shouted out a moment later. Yixing looked over his shoulder, pausing his conversation with an older woman to look at Minseok. “Lu Han found me.”

“Oh, from what I’ve heard, he’s been looking pretty actively.” Yixing paused to speak to the woman as she smiled gently and took her leave. Minseok looked over his shoulder, but was relieved to find Lu Han nowhere near him. “Do you want me to ask him to leave?”

Minseok visibly shrunk at the question, hated the fact that he wanted to nod his head and have Yixing do his dirty work for him, especially because he was older. And it was Yixing’s going away party anyways, it shouldn’t have  _ mattered  _ to Minseok. So he shook his head and tried to figure out some other way to avoid Lu Han for the rest of the night.

  
  
  


Nearing the end of the night, where Minseok was sure he had sobered up enough to drive home, and Chanyeol was all social-ed out without having found another notch for his bedpost, Minseok had the absolute displeasure of running into Lu Han yet again, and this time, he couldn’t escape him. Thankfully, Minseok had happened upon him without his eye candy hanging off of his arm— just himself, all smiles, soft edges and warmth, like he hadn’t broken Minseok’s heart just a few months earlier.

Minseok froze at the sight of him, swallowed hard against the dryness of his throat. Lu Han smiled at him— fuck, his stupid fucking smile. Minseok wanted to hit him.

“Minnie, you ran away from me earlier. I was starting to think you didn’t like me anymore.”

“That was the point,” Minseok mumbled, searching the room for Chanyeol. Where the hell was that oaf when Minseok needed him? If he could just find him, he could use Chanyeol as an excuse to get home.

“I haven’t had a chance to talk to you during this whole party,” Lu Han paused to take a drink of his champagne, the usual bubbly drink he treated himself to at parties, unlike Minseok, who downed shot after shot after shot of hard alcohol and still found himself sober enough to hold normal conversations. “I haven’t introduced you to my friend either.”

“Have you seen Chanyeol?” Minseok rushed, felt his anxiety peaking as his heart began to thud in his chest. The last thing he needed was to meet Lu Han’s new whatever-he-was. Boyfriend, fiance, plaything— whatever he was, Minseok did  _ not  _ want to know.

Lu Han parted his lips to speak, but stopped short, as his eyes flickered over Minseok’s shoulder. Before Minseok could even think to look over his shoulder, he felt arms looping around the middle of his body, just between his stomach and his chest, and pulling him in. Chanyeol’s scent surrounded him, his cologne suffocating, so fucking obnoxious, but it actually helped to calm him down, as he took a deep breath in and thought about Chanyeol, instead of Lu Han and the whole disaster unfolding in front of him.

“Hey, babe,” Chanyeol said, ducking down to press a kiss to Minseok’s cheek. Minseok let out a stuttered breath, his face warming up at the affection. His hands moved to Chanyeol’s arms, fingers barely trying to curl under his grip and tug him off.

“Are you drunk?” Minseok asked, sudden. Chanyeol shook his head, pressed his lips to Minseok’s ear.

“Will you play along? It’ll make him buzz off.”

Minseok looked up at Lu Han in front of him, found his ex’s face flush with... embarrassment? Minseok couldn’t quite tell, but let Chanyeol manhandle him for a moment, pressing one last kiss to the space between his neck and shoulder.

“Hey, Lu!” Chanyeol grinned, not pulling away from Minseok even a bit. “Long time, no see.”

“Likewise,” Lu Han said, let his eyes flicker to Minseok, as if studying his reactions. 

Minseok wasn’t sure if he was making this believable or not, but wasn’t particularly concerned with that either. He was more focused on the faint scent of alcohol on Chanyeol’s breath, of his hand on his waist, the other on his stomach, holding him with authority Minseok didn’t expect from him. His gut twisted in anticipation, as he took in another long breath as Chanyeol exhaled, as if breathing him in with the action.

“Yeol-ah,” Minseok started, catching even Chanyeol off guard with the name, “would you get the keys from Yifan? He took them in case I got drunk.”

“Of course,” Chanyeol said. He was clearly pleased with himself that he had managed to get the message across, even if it was a lie. Lu Han looked surprised enough at this, but even looked away when Chanyeol pressed a kiss to the corner of Minseok’s lips, just bordering on needing to ask permission.

“Chanyeol?” Lu Han said after the aforementioned left, heading to the bar to grab the keys, as he and Yifan went back and forth.

“It’s a new thing,” Minseok said, sounding sheepish. Lu Han let out a hum, his lips pressed together in a thin line. “We’re... still working things out.”

“I would have thought so,” Lu Han remarked. Minseok furrowed his brows, wanted to ask what the hell he meant by that, if he was implying Minseok should still be getting over Lu Han, but bit back his words and rolled his eyes instead.

“Did you still want me to meet your... friend?” Minseok cringed at the word. No matter how he said it, it still sounded bitter and passive aggressive. Now, with Chanyeol returning to Minseok’s side with the keys in his hands, Minseok could tell the answer was ‘no’ from Lu Han, as he grimaced and looked away.

“No, it seems you two are heading home for the night, and we should have headed out hours ago. Seems about that time.”

Lu Han didn’t bother to say anything else, just gathered himself and said goodbye without even offering Minseok another look. It stung, a little bit, like Minseok still wanted Lu Han to look over his shoulder. Chanyeol let out a huff of breath, running his fingers through his hair, now ridden with sweat. Minseok figured he must have been dancing, or maybe drinking too much for his own good. He always overheated when he had too much alcohol.

“Do you think he bought it?” Chanyeol said.

Chanyeol speaking caught Minseok off guard, as he flinched, before turning to Chanyeol and frowning. He snatched his keys from Chanyeol’s hands, clearly annoyed at the question— either Chanyeol’s lack of tact, or the fact that he had very much done something Minseok wasn’t okay with.

“Hey, where are you going? Hyung, what’s the matter?”

Minseok stormed off with his keys in hand, stopping only to say goodbye to Yixing, while Chanyeol trailed behind him, all clumsy limbs and shouted words, before Minseok was at his car, opening the driver’s side door and starting the car. He drove away from the curb without buckling himself in, while Chanyeol helplessly tried shouting after him.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Minseok woke up with a biting headache the following morning. He had forgotten to shut off the air conditioning the night before, pulled his blankets up over his legs as he shuddered out a breath. Everything from the night before felt like some badly written rom-com, like Chanyeol was gonna burst into laughter with Lu Han and they’d all shirk it off. But Minseok could remember the smell of Chanyeol’s breath, how he enveloped Minseok so  _ easily,  _ so  _ fully—  _

He fucking hated it. Feeling Chanyeol all around him, surrounding him, forcing him to feel all of him. Not in the literal sense of the word, but basking in his energy, feeling like Chanyeol had complete control of the situation and there was nothing Minseok could do to regain dominance, assure he was the one calling the shots. Everything about Chanyeol was suffocating.

But most of all, Minseok thought, as he swung his legs out of bed, sitting up while his knees and elbows popped with exhaustion, most of what he hated, was the fact that Chanyeol pulled away so nonchalantly, as if Minseok was just another  _ thing  _ to him, like Minseok couldn’t absolutely break Chanyeol if he wanted to. All of it was an act to make Lu Han jealous, but all it did was make Minseok  _ angry.  _

Minseok grabbed his phone from the night stand, found an overwhelming amount of texts from Yixing and Chanyeol alike, one from Yifan with the cringing emoji, and another from Junmyeon, who simply asked where Minseok had escaped to without saying hello. All of Chanyeol’s and Yixing’s messages consisted of frantic messages asking where he had ran off to, if he was sober enough to drive, before the two finally stopped for the night. Yixing said he was going to drop Chanyeol off, but Chanyeol hadn’t messaged him since.

He half expected to find Chanyeol asleep on the couch, or even knocked out on the floor somewhere, but only found his own clothes from the night before still messily strewn in the living room, and the bowl of cereal he had started eating on the table right where he had left it. If Chanyeol had been home, he surely would have eaten it.

As if on cue, or perhaps as some cruel joke, Minseok heard a key slide through the front door, unlocking and slowly opening a moment later. Chanyeol had already tugged his shoes off, walked in and dropped them beside the door, before jumping at the sight of Minseok in the living room. 

They both went wide eyed, Minseok holding his bowl of cereal and cleaning up his clothes, and Chanyeol, disheveled, shirt unbuttoned and sleep marks decorating his face. He stuttered nervously, looking down at the floor before closing the door behind him and still searching for the words.

“Did— did I... do something?” Chanyeol said, choosing what he said carefully. Minseok swallowed against the dryness of his throat, but shook his head, trying to calm himself.

“Just didn’t want to be there anymore.”

“You didn’t wait for me,” Chanyeol said. Minseok could tell it had been eating at Chanyeol all night. Minseok rolled his eyes and carried his bowl to the kitchen, pouring out the remnants in the garbage disposal. Chanyeol followed closely behind, still sulking like a scolded puppy. “You didn’t even tell me where you were going.”

“I’m a grown man, Chanyeol,” Minseok shot back, all the while he busied himself with washing his cereal bowl, trying to scrape the dried bits of cereal from the sides before opening their dishwasher and setting it in there. “And you’re a grown man. I figured you could handle being at a party alone.”

“That’s  _ not  _ what I’m saying.”

“Well, that’s what  _ I’m  _ saying,” Minseok brushed him off.

“Why do you talk to me like that?” Chanyeol said, now following Minseok to the hall, where Minseok was throwing his clothes into the hamper.

When Minseok didn’t answer, and tried to walk past Chanyeol, he felt Chanyeol jerk him back by his arm, before he pushed Minseok into the wall behind him. Chanyeol caged Minseok in with a hand on either side of his head, the sheer force of the shove punching the air out of Minseok’s chest. He let out a small noise, surprised by how easily Chanyeol pushed him around.

“Don’t do this,” Chanyeol said, his voice small. Pleading. Minseok could feel something bubbling in the pit of his stomach, something angry and jealous and  _ mean,  _ and suddenly, Minseok was shoving Chanyeol right off of him. The force of it sent Chanyeol stumbling back, over the coffee table in their living room, falling flat on it as the legs snapped under his weight.

Minseok panted out, “don’t fucking touch me, Chanyeol.”

“What is your problem!?” Chanyeol shot back, clearly losing his boundaries, as he scrambled off of the floor and followed Minseok into the kitchen. Minseok remembered leaving his keys in there the night before, after he stumbled in and grabbed his bowl of cereal. Minseok grabbed his keys off of the counter, but felt Chanyeol pin his hand on the counter, before snatching them up and throwing them across the apartment. “You can’t keep running from this— from me!”

Like that, Minseok was forcing Chanyeol into the wall so hard, he almost felt it himself, how Chanyeol groaned and hissed through his teeth. Minseok may have been small, but what he didn’t have in height, the way Chanyeol did, he had in strength. Chanyeol may have been able to cage him in, push him around, but Minseok could make him  _ hurt.  _

Minseok wasn’t quite sure what brought it on. The sudden disgust in his stomach as soon as he saw Chanyeol. He knew it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t fucking healthy! Maybe it had to do with how easily Chanyeol thought he could make Minseok listen to him, submit, like he wanted him to the night before. Minseok  _ hated  _ it.

Nobody was bleeding, so that was an achievement in and of itself, Minseok decided. He wanted to grab his keys and fucking leave, but Chanyeol made sure he’d have to actually stop and gather his thoughts and not just blindly storm out of here. He wondered if their neighbors heard, would leave a ‘get better soon’ platter on their front doorstep the way they had a few times before after their arguments.

It was childish— the way Minseok lifted his arm up like he was going to punch Chanyeol. So anticlimactic, because he knew very well if he wanted to hit Chanyeol, he would have hit him already. The hesitation spoke volumes. Still, Chanyeol let out a deep breath.

“Hit me,” he said, voice firm. Minseok’s eyes darkened. “Go ahead, do it. Hit me!” Chanyeol made to shove Minseok off, grabbing him by his wrists and making sure he couldn’t move. “Hit me, Minnie.”

The challenge coupled with the name set something off in Minseok so fucking unadulterated, he didn’t know what else to do other than grab Chanyeol by his hair, shove him into the wall again before pulling him down for a rough, and fairly sudden, kiss. It was all teeth and tension, Minseok nicking his bottom lip on Chanyeol’s canine. God, he couldn’t even think straight enough to hiss or lick at the spot, but bit down on Chanyeol’s bottom lip and savored the sharp  _ bite  _ as Chanyeol shivered, his mouth falling open.

And Minseok wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, even as he pulled away and felt Chanyeol’s hands fumbling with his shirt, pulling it off over Minseok’s head. Chanyeol was still in his button up from the night before, made Minseok work for it, as he messed with the top of the buttons, before huffing loud and pulling the shirt open. A few of the buttons popped off with ease, falling on the kitchen floor, along with Chanyeol’s shirt a moment after.

The kitchen was... less than ideal for this kind of thing. Like, Minseok knew all they had to do was move a few feet away, into the living room, or even one of their own  _ bedrooms,  _ but Chanyeol was licking into his mouth so fervently, trying so hard to get Minseok to moan, as one hand slid down the side of his chest, before moving to the small of his back and grinding their hips together.

Minseok could already feel Chanyeol parting his lips to say something, but Minseok was quick to the draw, dragged his fingertips along the sides of Chanyeol’s body, before scratching down his chest  _ hard  _ and sudden, made Chanyeol hiss and grind his teeth together.

“Don’t. Fucking. Say. Anything,” Minseok gritted out, earned another rough kiss, as Chanyeol bit down on his lip.

It didn’t take much from Minseok for Chanyeol to realize what he wanted from him— a bite at his lip here, the tease of his tongue over his palette, a gentle nudge in the right direction, and Chanyeol was dropping to his knees, kissing and sucking marks into Minseok’s skin on the way down. Every action was rushed, from Chanyeol biting bruises into his skin, to Minseok hurriedly pulling his sweatpants off over the curve of his hips. 

Chanyeol pillowed his cheek against Minseok’s thigh for a moment, when he realized Minseok didn’t have anything on underneath his pants, and lifted his hand to tease at Minseok’s cock, still only half hard. Minseok hissed at the dip of Chanyeol’s thumb past his slit. He didn’t want to be too much, so he gripped the counter’s edge instead, knuckles going white with effort as Chanyeol teased him. Minseok was almost surprised at Chanyeol’s willingness to tease— he was a fucking galoot, after all. “Finesse” and “methodical” weren’t particularly words Minseok would use to describe him, but found himself growing more and more frustrated when Chanyeol just kept pressing kisses against the tip of his cock, as if  _ this  _ was the moment for tenderness.

When Minseok moved one of his hands from the counter, to drag his thumb over Chanyeol’s bottom lip, Chanyeol didn’t even flinch away. He let his mouth fall open, savored how Minseok rubbed his thumb over the flat palette of his tongue, before looking up at Minseok for an answer.

“Open,” ordered Minseok, forceful. Chanyeol did just that, opened his mouth more, as Minseok jerked his hand back and instead, set it on the back of Chanyeol’s neck. From there, Chanyeol could take a hint, wrapped his fingers around the base of Minseok’s cock and lifted the head to his lips. 

The squeeze of Minseok’s fingers at the back of his neck made him move forward, swallowing Minseok down in one fluid action. Minseok wasn’t particularly lengthy, to accompany his height, but his cock was thick, heavy on Chanyeol’s tongue. Chanyeol tried to catch his breath through his nose. He took more until his nose was nestled right against Minseok’s pubic hair, jaw sore with the action.

“F-fuck,” Minseok let out after feeling Chanyeol swallow around him. Chanyeol counted his blessings that he wasn’t gagging, mostly because Minseok’s cock couldn’t reach that far, but also because he had only done this once or twice before, and Minseok was  _ enjoying  _ it. Minseok might not have been the most vocal, but the expressions he was making spoke volumes, made up for all the times he bit down on his bottom lip and stifled himself.

Chanyeol wanted to pull off, ask Minseok if he was doing good, draw it out just that much more the way he had with other people he’d gone down on, but Minseok was different, so fucking different. He didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to hear Chanyeol talk; he just wanted to be mean and make Chanyeol hurt, and Chanyeol liked that about him. He felt Minseok lace his fingers in his hair, getting a grip before tugging sternly. Chanyeol whimpered, but didn’t stop, pulled against Minseok’s grip to try and get more of Minseok. He hollowed his cheeks around him, felt Minseok’s hips stutter forward before finally huffing loud and impatient.

Chanyeol sputtered when Minseok pulled his cock out of his mouth, fully hard, a string of spit connecting Chanyeol’s top lip to the tip of his cock before breaking and splitting between them. Minseok stuttered out another weak,  _ fuck,  _ before looking down at Chanyeol and panting hard.

“Please,” Chanyeol said, surprised by his own obedience. But he had no time to be embarrassed, or even shocked, as he felt Minseok grab him by the face.

“I said, don’t talk.”

Chanyeol wasn’t used to being commanded around. After all, it was something he and Minseok butted heads on often. But now he felt his body completely melting under the orders, only nodded his head and let his mouth fall open as Minseok guided his cock back into his mouth, slow, steady. Chanyeol didn’t even let his mouth close around Minseok until Minseok was nodding his head and moaning soft, his head lolling back as his grip in Chanyeol’s hair tightened.

Minseok asked permission without words. He looked down at Chanyeol, waited until Chanyeol looked up at him through his lashes, before jerking his hips forward just a touch. Chanyeol was never one to deny his partner of whatever they wanted, and if this was what Minseok wanted, Chanyeol wanted it, too. He let his jaw go slack, before nodding his head and sliding his hands up Minseok’s thighs just to reassure him it was okay.

The way Minseok’s hips snapped forward was sudden, made Chanyeol feel Minseok’s cock just barely brush against the front of his throat. He could still breathe, so that was fine, Chanyeol thought, but didn’t negate the fact that tears were building up in his eyes. Minseok moaned, soft, his free hand gripping the counter ridiculously tight. The muscles under the skin of his stomach shifted every time Minseok let out a hiccupped breath, thrusting into Chanyeol’s mouth with reckless abandon.

And Minseok was absolutely dripping with precum, all over Chanyeol’s tongue, as he swallowed around him and tried to keep up with his movements, his chest jumping up and down with his breaths. Chanyeol breathed shallow, laved his tongue around the most sensitive part of Minseok’s cock whenever Minseok pulled out, before fucking back into Chanyeol’s warm, wet mouth.

It only took a few more thrusts for Chanyeol to feel Minseok’s thighs tense with his orgasm on the tips of his toes. He could feel Minseok tugging on his hair to pull him away, but Chanyeol didn’t stop, sucked harder and felt Minseok’s hips stutter once, twice—

“Ch-Chanyeol—!” Minseok choked on his words and looked down at him, but Chanyeol pulled away just as he was coming, jerked him off until Minseok felt his orgasm washing over his body from the top of his head to his thighs, burning with pleasure. He came hot, all over Chanyeol’s bottom lip, his cheeks, the last little bit ended up on the bridge of his nose, as Minseok moaned soft and low.

When Chanyeol didn’t immediately make to stand up, Minseok looked down at him, found Chanyeol lolling his tongue out with just a bit of cum sitting on the flat of his tongue. He swallowed it down a second later, Minseok letting out a heavy breath and pulling Chanyeol off of his knees to clean off his face with his fingers. One by one, Chanyeol took them into his mouth, swallowed his cum down and made Minseok moan again.

It didn’t take much for Chanyeol to signal he was still hard, pressing against Minseok’s thigh as he leaned in to kiss him. Minseok grazed his teeth against Chanyeol’s bottom lip, before pulling away to kiss down the column of his neck.

“You’ve probably got some lube hidden in a disgusting place here, right?” Minseok said. Chanyeol flushed red in embarrassment, but didn’t hesitate to reach up to the tallest cupboard above the fridge, to grab a bottle of lube and turn around with it in his hands, sheepish. “I knew it. You’re so predictable.”

Minseok pulled Chanyeol into his arms, setting the lube on the counter to pull him down for another kiss. Chanyeol smelled like sweat and old cologne, like stale alcohol and hair gel, desperation, sex— he fucking  _ reeked  _ of it, and Minseok wanted it, wanted him. Minseok reached into Chanyeol’s back pocket and found his wallet, where Chanyeol kept a condom, as stereotypical as it and he was. 

Without parting, Minseok started undoing the buckle of Chanyeol’s belt, whipping it off a second later and throwing it to the side. Chanyeol was sure he’d get an earful later about what a mess the kitchen was, how absolutely unsanitary it was for them to be messing around in there of all places, but for now, Chanyeol got to look down and watch Minseok fumbling with his pants, looking up at him and wanting Chanyeol to kiss  _ him. _

It was almost surreal, if Chanyeol didn’t feel Minseok shoving his hand into his boxers, wrapping his fingers around the base of his cock, jerking him forward, like he could control him that way. Minseok smirked against the crook of Chanyeol’s neck.

“So  _ easy,  _ Chanyeol.” Minseok said his name for the first time since they started, and it was sadistic and taunting. Chanyeol couldn’t help but whine in response. “You wanna fuck me, right? Wanna see me beg for your cock?”

Chanyeol was a simple man. Seriously, it didn’t take much to rile him up, and Minseok was being downright filthy. He squeezed against Chanyeol’s cock, felt Chanyeol’s muscles go tense against him, as he took a sudden and sharp breath in.

“Please,” Chanyeol repeated. “Let me—”

As soon as Chanyeol went to grab Minseok by his hips and lift him up, carry him somewhere else besides the kitchen, he felt Minseok plant himself on the ground. He shook his head, slid his hand out of Chanyeol’s pants, before turning his back on him and bending over the counter. Chanyeol felt like he could have  _ died  _ right then and there. Seeing Minseok like this was something Chanyeol would only experience in his wildest dreams, and even  _ then,  _ it would never really compare to this, to Minseok grabbing the lube bottle from beside him and popping the cap.

“Are you going to fuck me, or not?”

Chanyeol didn’t have to be told twice, taking the lube bottle from Minseok’s hands and pouring a healthy amount between the curve of Minseok’s ass, spreading his cheeks and letting the lube warm up against his skin. Minseok hissed, mumbled an insult under his breath, but relaxed when he heard Chanyeol pouring more lube in the palm of his hand.

Minseok let out a soft noise of discomfort when he first felt Chanyeol prodding at his asshole, middle finger pushing in just to the first knuckle, before he was pulling back out and rubbing his finger through the lube again. Chanyeol was only half surprised to find little resistance when he nudged his ring finger in alongside his middle finger. He knew Minseok liked this kind of thing. It was just a little different to be experiencing it with two fingers sliding into him.

“I can take three,” Minseok groused, mostly irritated that Chanyeol was treating him so gently. He didn’t mind prepping, for the most part, but that didn’t change the fact that Minseok wanted to be  _ fucked,  _ and Chanyeol just wasn’t doing that. After sliding in his index finger and letting Minseok get used to the stretch of his fingers, Minseok signaled he was ready by clenching around his fingers, tight.

Chanyeol tore the condom package open after Minseok handed it to him, quickly sliding it on and pinching the tip. Minseok wanted to reach underneath himself and touch, tease Chanyeol all that much more, but he felt Chanyeol gripping his hips behind him, pulling him where he wanted him, before spreading his cheeks and pressing his cock to his hole. With their height difference, Minseok felt Chanyeol picking him up with the action, and that just made him all the more annoyed, but couldn’t argue, as he felt every inch of Chanyeol’s cock filling him up to the brim. 

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

“Just—” Minseok clenched around Chanyeol, despite his better judgment, knowing he should have let himself get accustomed to the feeling first, but  _ needing  _ more. Chanyeol hissed in pleasure, already worked up from sucking Minseok off in the first place. All this did was rile him up more, fingers clenching impossibly tight around Minseok’s thick hips and slamming into him a moment after Minseok went lax around him. 

Already, after the first thrust, Minseok could feel himself falling apart. He braced himself against the counter, searching for purchase against the smooth top as Chanyeol pulled himself all the way out, before fucking back into him, calculated. 

The head of his cock brushed against Minseok’s prostate and made him jump, the stimulation too much as Chanyeol thrust into him again, and again, and again. Every single touch to his prostate sent chills down his spine. When Chanyeol didn’t hit his prostate, Minseok still couldn’t help moaning, as the sound of Chanyeol coming undone was almost even better than getting fucked senseless.

Coming more than once was something Minseok had managed only a handful of times in his sex life, and he certainly didn’t think it was going to happen with Chanyeol at any point in his life. The friction of his cock rubbing against the countertop paired with Chanyeol’s cock hitting him in all the right places (Chanyeol’s stupid fucking bragging about his cock unfortunately lived up to everything he said, because Minseok felt  _ so  _ good) had Minseok’s second orgasm prickling at the bottom of his belly, the tips of his toes, goosebumps littering his arms and the backs of his thighs. 

Chanyeol groaned low and long in the back of his chest when he felt Minseok tighten around him again.

“Harder,” Minseok said, falling forward with Chanyeol’s next thrust. It was rough, but not nearly what Minseok wanted. “Chanyeol, fuck me  _ harder.” _

“Hy-hyung, I—”

“What? You can’t do it?” Minseok’s voice was so mean, cut the atmosphere so sudden and jarring. Any other time, Chanyeol would have shrunk away, or just made some snide comment back, but the meanness was encouraging, made Chanyeol hold onto Minseok’s hips harder and pull him back with the next thrust. Minseok yelped, and then moaned, moved one of his hands down to Chanyeol’s on his hips and digging his nails in.

“Is this what you wanted, hyung?” Chanyeol ducked down so his lips hovered over Minseok’s ear. “Fuck, you’re so warm, you’re tight, I—”

“You wanted  _ me,  _ Chanyeol, just s-say it,” Minseok managed to say before breaking into another moan. “That’s why you pulled that stupid—  _ ah, fuck—  _ that stupid stunt with Lu Han last night.”

“I helped you!” Chanyeol paused to fuck into Minseok again. “And you’re the one that kissed  _ me.” _

“Always bringing people over—” Minseok hiccuped as he felt Chanyeol hit his prostate again. “Leaving your door open so I catch you—”

Whatever thoughts Minseok had were completely washed away by Chanyeol grabbing Minseok’s arms and pulling them behind him, pinning them to the small of his back and fucking into him harsh. Minseok felt precum spit from the head of his cock, making the slide against the counter just a touch less rough, before feeling his orgasm unfurling in the pit of his belly, tumbling headfirst into climax.

Minseok clenched around Chanyeol, thighs going taut and body trembling with the force of his second orgasm. Chanyeol slowed his thrusts, giving Minseok short, relentless thrusts to ride his orgasm out on, while Minseok whimpered in overstimulation. 

Chanyeol wasn’t far behind, only managing a few more short thrusts before coming. Minseok knew Chanyeol was still wearing his condom, but he could practically feel his cum inside of him, hot and warm. With every flex of Chanyeol’s hips, he pumped another line of cum into him, before they were both panting and exhausted, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Both Chanyeol and Minseok moaned when Chanyeol pulled out, tying off the condom and tossing it in the trash under the sink. Minseok sank to his feet at the counter, still trying to come to his senses, before he realized his cum was all over the counter now. He grimaced, standing up and looking down at his stomach.

“Fuck.”

“It’s a mess,” Chanyeol finished the thought for him. Minseok sighed.

“I have to shower.” Minseok looked himself up and down again, before shaking his head. Just as he tried to walk out of the kitchen, Chanyeol reached out and grabbed his arm, pulled him back. “Chanyeol, don’t.”

“Do you get jealous when I bring people over?” Chanyeol said, crowding Minseok against the counter again. Minseok made a face, clearly bugged that Chanyeol was bringing it up, when Minseok said it in the heat of the moment.

“No. Why would I be jealous?”

“Because I fuck them when you’re right there,” Chanyeol said, sans a filter. Minseok flushed, annoyed, but didn’t answer to Chanyeol’s satisfaction. Chanyeol hummed. “Seeing you get all freaked out because of Lu Han, that really pissed me off.”

“What?” Minseok furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“Because,” he said, as if it was an answer in and of itself, but continued, “you’re Minseok. Nothing and nobody gets to you like that. I’ve never seen you all... flustered.” Chanyeol nuzzled in close to Minseok’s neck, pressed his nose along the side of his throat and traced his lips on marks he left behind. “I hated it.”

“You... hated it.”

“Yeah, but I think a part of me was jealous, too.” Chanyeol sounded so stupidly honest. Minseok forgot that was something that came easy to Chanyeol. He never minded spilling his guts for whoever. That’s why he cried on Minseok’s shoulder, why he always looked so hurt after their fights. “Hearing about you with Lu Han and actually seeing it.... Fuck, I couldn’t handle it. Knowing he does that to you— I... I like being the only one that frustrates you.”

Minseok couldn’t find the words, but settled for, “this isn’t healthy. You know that, right?”

And that made Chanyeol shrug, nodding his head in resignation, but looking almost unaffected by it.

“Yeah. The fighting and stuff, it isn’t. But... I dunno.” Chanyeol wasn’t much better at knowing what to say, so he settled for holding onto Minseok by his hips, squeezing affectionately. Minseok looked up at him for one of the first times before this whole ordeal, and found Chanyeol grinning, innocently. “I kind of like you, hyung.”

The quietness between them said a lot more than anything else could have. Minseok looked back down, before sighing and shaking his head.

“Okay. Okay, we’ll  _ try  _ this.”

Chanyeol wanted to cheer, as he usually would when he got his way, but Minseok held onto his by his forearms and caught his attention.

“But first, we need to clean up.”

“Ugh,” Chanyeol immediately said, but knew better than to argue with Minseok when it came to cleaning up their apartment.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“So, what? Now you’re dating him? Fucking him?”

Minseok hummed, took a sip of his drink before messing with the food on his plate. Jongdae was pretty upset about everything, but he was that type— always let his feathers get ruffled by every little thing.

“I don’t think anything’s changed. We’re just... having sex now.”

“And the fighting?” Jongdae said. “Minseok, it’s a lot different to fight like that when you’re  _ with  _ somebody. Take this seriously.”

“I’m your elder, here,” Minseok said, darting his gaze up at Jongdae. “I know what I’m getting into. I don’t need you telling me about my own decisions.”

“Minseok, you guys broke a fucking table!” Jongdae spoke like he was the only sane one in this situation.

“He  _ fell  _ on it and then it broke.”

Jongdae huffed, tapping his fingers against the table and going silent, for lack of better things to say. Anything he said was gonna get some snarky response from Minseok, and he didn’t really wanna get preached to about how Minseok knew his own choices best.

So instead, Jongdae snorted and said, “But seriously, did Chanyeol think he was a huge upgrade from Lu Han? Talk about conceited.”

Minseok couldn’t help but laugh at that.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to the mods for hosting the fic fest, the prompter for giving me a prompt to work with, and you, for reading!
> 
> feel free to point out any mistakes or typos~


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